


Eight Sexy Spiders Spinning

by ckret2



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Bondage, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Non-Explicit Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-15 10:44:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 3,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16931799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ckret2/pseuds/ckret2
Summary: Eight disconnected ficlets in which Prowl and Tarantulas try (and sometimes fail) to interface.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hexxcode](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hexxcode/gifts).



> These ficlets were originally published on my Prowl RP blog on [tumblr](http://verdigrisprowl.tumblr.com). I did a meme that was like "send me an eggplant emoji and I'll write a nsfw scene with our RP characters," the writer behind the Tarantulas that I play with sent me eight eggplants, and I went "challenge accepted."
> 
> Now that Tumblr has started a porn witch hunt I figure I'd better mirror them over here like I've been meaning to.
> 
> Although these ficlets are very loosely based on our ongoing RPs, I specifically wrote them to work with, like, just Prowl and Tarantulas in general.

Prowl woke up, drowsy and disoriented. Everything was black, and he couldn’t budge. From chest to ankles, he was bound tight. He could turn his head, at least; behind him in every direction, his optics illuminated a vast spider web with pale blue light. 

“Finally awake, are we?” 

Prowl struggled to look toward his feet. In the dark, he could just barely see eight spider eyes, glittering malevolently over a menacing pair of chelicerae. 

“So good of you to finally take me up on one of my dinner invitations,” Tarantulas cooed, crawling up along Prowl’s body; most of his legs balanced him on the web, gently shaking Prowl with each step, but the front two pricked up along Prowl’s body. As Tarantulas moved up him, Prowl got a better sense of exactly where he was bound: web kept him wrapped from ankle to mid-thigh, and then again tight around his waist up to the base of his bumper. “I’m absolutely famished—and you look good enough to _devour._ ” 

Prowl jerked his shoulders, trying to get a sense for how his hands were bound. From upper arm to wrists, it seemed. Tauntingly, Tarantulas asked, “Comfortable?” 

“I can’t move at all.” 

“ _Good._ ” Tarantulas leaned over him, eyes dark and alien and hungry, fangs brushing ever so lightly over his hood. “I want to be sure you can’t budge an _inch_ until I—” 

“No, I actually can’t move at all. It’s too much.” 

“Oh!” Tarantulas reeled back immediately, front legs brushing against each other like he was wringing them nervously. “Oh, I’m sorry love, I didn’t realize— Does it hurt—?” 

“No, it doesn’t hurt, I just—” 

Tarantulas transformed, toes and knees lightly supporting him on the web as he straddled Prowl, picking lightly at the webbing on his shoulders and waist. “You said last time you wanted to be bound tighter, so I thought—” 

“Yes, I did, the tightness is fine— You’re fine— I’m sorry, I wasn’t specific enough. I meant tighter, but bound in the same places as last time.” 

“Oh, I see, I’m sorry—” 

“It’s fine—but could I have my arms back?” 

“Yes, of course!” Tarantulas leaned against Prowl—Prowl could feel Tarantulas’s thighs around his hips, his setae brushing against Prowl’s headlights—to reach behind him and pluck apart the webbing holding his wrists together. “Better?” 

Prowl wiggled apart his arms, and stretched them over his head. “Much. Thanks.” 

“Good.” Tarantulas immediately transformed again—growing several sizes larger in the process—and pinned Prowl’s wrists in place with two legs. “Then my delicious morsel is prepared to be devoured?” 

“Very.”

“Excellent!” Tarantulas’s fangs pricked along Prowl’s groin armor. “Then let the feast begin.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted [here](https://verdigrisprowl.tumblr.com/post/178905564894).


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you know that sometimes tarantulas keep pet frogs to protect their eggs from predators? Anyway that's why Tarantulas has "sentinel frogs," per hexxcode's headcanon.

"What are you working on?" 

"Hm?" Tarantulas barely spared a glance up from his current project to confirm that it was Prowl in the doorway, and glanced back down through the slanted glass lid over his current project. "Oh, just a little dissection." 

"Of?" 

"One of my sentinel frogs." Tarantulas worked the hologram controls deftly, using them to manipulate a couple of mechanical arms on the inside of the glass case. Four sharp points held a wiggling frog in place, as a laser scalpel lowered toward its chest. "I've designed a prototype that's self-repairing and self-regenerating. Now I have to see if it's—" 

He froze mid-sentence as Prowl's hands brushed along his waist. "Uh." 

"Go on." Prowl wrapped his arms securely around Tarantulas's waist, and put his chin on Tarantulas's shoulder—he must have been up on the tips of his pedes to do that. 

"... Right." Tarantulas tried to focus on his project and not on Prowl against his back, his upper arms pressed lightly against the bases of his spider legs. The mechanical arm with the scalpel lowered, but shakily. "So—naturally, the—the next testing stage is to, uh—well, of course I have to break one to see if it will fix itself?" 

"Mhmm?" One of Prowl's hands was drifting down, fingertips grazing over his alt-mode face and reaching lower, between his legs. Tarantulas turned to stare at him; but Prowl was staring over Tarantulas's shoulder, focused on the frog he was about to dissect. "How does it work?" 

"Wha?" Tarantulas made a jagged cut in the frog's chest. It wiggled unhappily. 

"The regeneration?" Prowl let go with one hand—not the one between Tarantulas's legs—to point at the frog. 

"Oh! Y-yes, of _course_ —cellular regeneration." 

"It has cells?" 

"Well, not _organic_ cells, but—it operates on the same process." He leaned toward the glass—slowly, trying not to dislodge Prowl—to look closer as he carefully severed the minute wires that sent signals between the frog's CPU and limbs. He attempted to ignore how his system was slowly heating up. "Microscopic components can—can pull the broken parts together and, er, regenerate the..." Prowl's other hand had landed high on his abdomen, just under Tarantulas's chest armor. He forgot what he was saying. He had to say something else instead. "If I can get the frog to automatically sense that it's been damaged and effect repairs, even if the signal doesn't reach the CPU, then _conceivably_ I could reach the point where the frag could be completely pulled apart and... and..." He lost his train of thought again. 

"You didn't say 'frog.'" 

"Didn't I? What did I say?"  

Prowl's optics weren't on the frog anymore. Tarantulas knew this because Prowl's lips were on the rim of the armor guarding the back of his neck. 

"Oh, blast it—" Tarantulas skewered the scalpel through the frog's chest, spun around in Prowl's embrace, and flung his arms over his shoulders. "The frog's damaged enough, the rest is up to it now." 

Prowl shoved Tarantulas back against the case over the frog. Tarantulas's legs splayed apart across the glass. "I look forward to seeing the results of your experiment." 

Tarantulas wrapped a leg around Prowl's waist, and Prowl bent over him, claiming his mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted [here](https://verdigrisprowl.tumblr.com/post/178906973784).


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay this one's like. A little explicit.

" _Prowwwl,_ " Tarantulas whined, squirming and twisting around Prowl. His thighs were tight around Prowl's head, his ankles crossed behind his back, his hips rolling, his chest heaving, his spider legs spasming–and still, tenderly, calmly, mercilessly, Prowl's mouth worked at Tarantulas's array. 

Prowl can't suck. He can't stick anything more solid than pudding farther in his mouth than the front of his teeth, or else he's heaving up his fuel tank like somebody told him the energon cube he just drained was made from his best friend's smelted spark casing. That did not, in Tarantulas's opinion, do a thing to impede his oral capabilities. 

Because he couldn't suck; but he _could_ nuzzle, and lick, and tease with his lips, and graze with his teeth; and he could kiss. Oh, could he kiss. He made out with Tarantulas's valve like it was just another mouth, and a pleasure-crazed part of Tarantulas momentarily regretted _not_ having the foresight to actually make it a mouth so that it could kiss Prowl back. 

And Prowl kissed gently, slowly, thoroughly, deeply; holding Tarantulas's hips in place, as best he could, with his hands, so that he could be as deliberate and careful with his ministrations as Tarantulas was wild with his writhing. Above all, it felt—it felt _caring._ Who could have imagined that _receiving oral_ could feel so utterly loving? 

It was such a rare treasure, when Prowl made Tarantulas feel loved. 

He tried to roll his hips again; Prowl tugged him down by his thighs again; and Tarantulas continued deliriously, joyously whining.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted [here](https://verdigrisprowl.tumblr.com/post/178907668749).


	4. Chapter 4

It was very rare that Tarantulas wore out before Prowl did. 

He must have been exhausting himself this past week. Last week they'd brainstormed seven glorious new little inventions, agreed that they'd all be wonderful to make, and Prowl was _pretty sure_ in that time Tarantulas had attempted to get to work on all seven. Tonight was supposed to be another brainstorming session (“““brainstorming”””), but Prowl had only overloaded once (Tarantulas _never_ let him overload once) and didn't think Tarantulas had overloaded at all before Tarantulas had slowed down, asked for a break, and fallen asleep across Prowl's lap. 

Prowl didn't mind the abrupt ending. If anything, it was kind of... nice. He was always absolutely wiped out after these sessions—he usually fell asleep almost immediately. He never got to just enjoy the aftermath. 

The aftermath was Tarantulas tucked under his arm, head on his shoulder, arm curled possessively across his waist and up the other side of his bumper; one thigh crossed Prowl's leg to nuzzle his knee between Prowl's thighs; arrays still exposed but cooling, Tarantulas's lubricant drying on Prowl's thighs, Prowl's cables tangled between their legs. 

Tarantulas never looked this serene when he was awake. Prowl didn't think he was _capable_ of looking this serene when he was awake. Prowl didn't mind not seeing Tarantulas like this when he was awake—that animating mania that kept him in perpetual dizzying motion was, after all, one of the things that made him so beautiful, so wonderful, so lovable—but it was a fascinating contrast. You'd never guess that half an hour ago he'd had Prowl pinned down in four different ways, optics wide and cackling gleefully at the way Prowl moaned for him. 

Tarantulas almost looked softer, like this. That vulnerability Prowl could hear in his words but never actually see in him was more obvious, in his dark visor and relaxed mandibles. 

Prowl lifted the hand he had tucked along Tarantulas's back to stroke his helm, rubbing his thumb against one horn. Without waking, Tarantulas let out a small cooing noise, and his whole body shifted slightly, like he was trying to press closer against Prowl. 

Prowl rolled onto his side, wrapped both arms around Tarantulas, and turned his optics off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted [here](https://verdigrisprowl.tumblr.com/post/178908458624).


	5. Chapter 5

Tarantulas was laughing so hard he couldn't breathe. 

Prowl wasn't. He was scowling at the upside-down room slowly turning around them. " _Tarantulas!_ " 

The stern voice just made Tarantulas laugh harder. "TARANTULAS!" Tarantulas's laughter wasn't even audible now. Prowl could only tell he was still laughing from the way he was shaking them both. 

"Tarantulas, _please_. Take this seriously." 

"I-I'm trying!" The giggling didn't cease for a second. 

Prowl sighed irritably. 

So. 

They'd tried suspension bondage today. 

It didn't go right. 

"Can't you—? This is your web, can't you cut it?" 

Tarantulas made a valiant attempt to control his hysterics. "I could if I could get a claw to the threads." He wiggled. Prowl looked up—down?—trying to see what he was doing; from what he could see, all of Tarantulas's legs were quite thoroughly entangled under the web. "But I'm—hyeh—I'm afraid that I'm having a little bit of a scientific breakthrough, over here." 

"... What do you mean?" 

"I'm the first spider to ever form a cocoon." And he dissolved once more into giggles. 

Prowl sighed again, and resigned himself to the room slowly spinning around them. "Next time, _I_ check the rigging before you hoist me up." 

For some reason that set Tarantulas off into wild cackles again. 

Well. At least one of them was having fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted [here](https://verdigrisprowl.tumblr.com/post/178908912569).


	6. Chapter 6

Outside of simple webs—which were flat and geometric and easy to make sense of—Prowl still didn’t fully trust Tarantulas’s suspended webbing furniture to not suddenly dump them on the floor or morph into a cocoon/death trap. 

Which was why this time, Prowl had both his feet firmly on the ground, and Tarantulas was the one testing the sex swing. 

Prowl had to admit, though—so far, this one was working fantastically. It kept Tarantulas at just the right height and angle to allow Prowl to drive into him, and did half the work of sliding in and out of Tarantulas _for_  Prowl. Low input for high output. Remarkably efficient. Almost too efficient, actually. It left Prowl with too little to do. He didn’t like not knowing what to do with himself while interfacing; it made him feel pressured to improvise.

Although he couldn’t criticize the view.

Tarantulas, suspended in bright silken ropes. Curling his toes and fingers in soft stirrups. Silk sashes cradling his thighs and lower back, white wrapped through his black fur. Many legs entwined with the ropes, twisting and untwisting as Tarantulas twitched in pleasure. 

“… Prowl?”

“Hm?”  


Tarantulas sat up; the swing rocked him forward and again into Prowl’s pelvis. Prowl caught his hips. “You stopped moving,” Tarantulas said. “Is everything alr—”

Prowl caught his mouth in a kiss.

Tarantulas let out a surprised, pleased noise, wrapped his arms around Prowl, and pulled him down on top of him.

He ended up in the swing after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted [here](https://verdigrisprowl.tumblr.com/post/178935764329).


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey look it's sadfluff. Like, hurt/comfort except the hurt happened a million years ago. I figure Prowl and Tara are going to be dealing with the _massive trust issues_ originating from that for an extremely long time.

Prowl considered it a treat whenever he got to go on a proper date with Tarantulas. A night in with a movie, or drinks out in a quiet corner of a bar on a slow evening, or a trip to a museum with Tarantulas nestled under Prowl's armor for safety— 

But sometimes within fifteen seconds of arriving in Tarantulas's lab Prowl was face down aft up on what had a moment earlier been a table full of delicate glass equipment, and that was pretty good too. 

Glass cracked and shattered further as Prowl tried to get his hands on the table for stability. Not that he needed it; Tarantulas was keeping himself balanced with four trembling spider legs, and using the other four and both arms to hold Prowl securely in place—and wildly paw at ever panel, corner, and edge on Prowl's frame. 

Prowl groaned, and Tarantulas bent over him, head pressed to his shoulder, legs trembling harder. It took Prowl a moment to realize that Tarantulas wasn't trembling from exertion. 

"... Tarantulas?" Prowl twisted partially on his side, trying to see his face. He caught a glimpse of thick red tears streaking from under Tarantulas's visor. "Tarantulas, what's—" 

"Sh-shhh. I'm—I'm f-fine—" 

"Stop." Prowl rolled on one side and gently pushed Tarantulas away with one foot against his thigh. "What's wrong?" He sat up. "Did I do s—" Wrong question, worry about that once he's no longer upset. "Can I help?" 

Tarantulas just stared at him, still leaning against the lab table, the most pitiful miserable look on his face, tears dripping down the zigzagging sides of his cheeks. "I'm s-sorry—I didn't want to mess up the— A-after you came here and—" 

"It's alright." Prowl leaned forward, taking Tarantulas's face in his hands to wipe the tear trails away. "Do you want to talk about it, or—?" 

Tarantulas collapsed on top of Prowl, knocking Prowl back down onto the table, buried his face in Prowl's hood, and started sobbing. Oh. Okay. Prowl wrapped his arms tightly around Tarantulas, wondering what in the world he'd done wrong to prompt all this. _Had_ he done something wrong? 

"Prowl, I—I l—I love—" A shudder shook his whole body; Prowl, startled by Tarantulas's flailing legs, held him tighter. 

"I know." He kissed the top of Tarantulas's head. 

"Can you—Prowl—Promise me you w-won't go again?" 

_Again._ Oh. Yes. Prowl _had_ done something wrong. It was just a long time ago. 

"... I wish I could promise you that." He truly, truly wished he could. More than anything, he'd like to say, with 99% certainty, that things would never get so bad, so unhealthy, so dangerous between them that he'd never have to cut his losses and run. Right now, even at his most optimistic, he'd only given them 52% odds. 

But 52% was good. 52% was big. It had been a milestone, in Prowl's mind, when they'd finally broken 50%. When Tarantulas had first approached him, he'd have put them at 9%, if at that point he'd even been considering a relationship at all. Even if only slimly so, their odds were now better than not. 

And every day the numbers crept a little bit higher. 

Before Tarantulas could slip deeper into despair, Prowl quickly added, "But I can promise that there's nothing _now_ , where we _currently_ are, that would make me leave. I can promise that, if I do, it will be long after telling you that I might, so that we can fix whatever's wrong together, instead of..." _instead of me throwing you into your own prison and leaving you there to go mad._ "Instead of—stabbing you in the back." Prowl wasn't going to downplay what he'd done, but Tarantulas didn't need to hear him reiterate the details. "And I can promise that—whatever happens—I won't want to go. Because I don't. I don't want to go. I want to—be here. With you." 

Bit by bit, Tarantulas's trembling stilled. Prowl didn't know what else to say, but the stilling was probably a good sign, so he slowly rubbed Tarantulas's back.  

After a moment, Tarantulas started moving his hips into Prowl's again. 

Prowl jerked his hips back. "Nope! No. We're not doing that." 

"But Prowwwl..." Tarantulas glanced up, giving Prowl the saddest look he'd ever seen. 

"No. I'm sorry. The mood's dead." 

Tarantulas whined pitifully. "But I want..." 

"We're cuddling now." 

Tarantulas sighed. But crawled up and on top of Prowl, curling up as best he could over his lap and torso. "I'm sorry." 

"It's okay. But—Tarantulas, you can—" Prowl sighed, trying to get his words in order. "You can—tell me, when you feel... things. Like this. Instead of pretending you're fine. I want to know." 

" _Why?_ Why would you want to know?" 

"So I can—try to help. Even if I'm bad at it." And he was probably bad at it. 

"You don't have to—" 

"But I want to." 

Tarantulas fell silent. Prowl resumed rubbing his back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original posted [here](https://verdigrisprowl.tumblr.com/post/178938746984).


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fibernoxi and Stickyfinger are a couple of NPC OCs that pop up from time to time on my blog; I only used them here because I needed Outsider Observer Characters for the scene to work. For the context of this scene all you need to know about either of them is that Fibernoxi:  
> 1) is subordinate Prowl  
> 2) works in the same place as Prowl  
> 3) might, unlike Prowl, be reasonably expected to try to interface in places where that technically isn't allowed.

“This way,” Fibernoxi whispered, tugging Stickyfinger by the hand down the hall. “I found this meeting room last week. It’s perfect for stealth interfacing. It’s got a table, it doesn’t have windows, it’s away from everyone else’s office…” He tapped in the code at the door. “And the best thing is, nobody _ever_ uses—” 

The door slid open. 

To reveal a grotesque, hairy, fangy, half-organic mutant monster, fragging the hell out of the Fibernoxi’s straight-laced bound-and-gagged captain. 

Fibernoxi gaped at Prowl and the monster. His mouth was letting out some kind of long, wheezy, squeaky noise. Stickyfinger got up on the tips of his pedes and leaned sideways to try to see over Fibernoxi’s shoulder. 

The monster stopped moving. It turned to face Fibernoxi, staring at him with a multitude of sickly glowing green and and yellow optics. And in perfect, prim, and very irritated Neocybex, it said, “Do you _mind_?” 

Fibernoxi continued to gape. He tried to reply to the monster, but he couldn’t get his jaw to work. It came out as a creaky, “Aaaah?” 

“You’re not supposed to b— He’s not supposed to be here, is he? You said meetings weren’t held in here.” The monster looked down at Prowl. Prowl—who was tied up with some kind of sticky, stringy, tendony tape—shook his head. “There! You see? You’re not supposed to be here. So,” the monster raised some kind of massive, fleshy claw, and used it to make a dainty dismissive gesture, “shoo. Go on. As you can _quite clearly_ see, this room is occupied.” 

“But…” Fibernoxi pointed at Prowl. “But…” 

Prowl lifted his head and jerked it sideways, in what was very clearly intended to be a go-away-and-back-down-the-hall-in-that-direction gesture. 

“Now,” the monster snapped, “if you’d _be so kind_ as to shut the door on the way out.” 

Fibernoxi continued gaping, finger pointing uselessly between Prowl and the monster. 

Stickyfinger calmly reached around Fibernoxi, tugged his arm down, pulled him back a step, and clicked the button to slide the door shut. 

The noises Fibernoxi heard after that would haunt his nightmares for months.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted [here](https://verdigrisprowl.tumblr.com/post/178939521309).
> 
> I should have some more (and lengthier) ProwlTara up sometime soon, although possibly not until I get a couple of gifts for holiday fic/art exchanges written. Stay tuned!


End file.
